


Secret Stash

by Meloncholor



Series: Valentine's Month [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Party Shenanigans, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloncholor/pseuds/Meloncholor
Summary: Shane gets invited to Millie's barn party, and he's not gonna pass up on a chance for free booze.
Relationships: Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Valentine's Month [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618999
Comments: 5
Kudos: 132





	Secret Stash

Shane wasn’t one for parties. He wasn’t much for anything involving other people, actually. And he wasn’t a fan of everyone’s favorite farmer, Millie. But despite his inner protests and (admittedly weak) convictions, Millie’s booze was the best in town. Gus and Pierre never shut the hell up about it, and it was nigh time he got some of the nice, expensive stuff instead of whatever watery swill he usually drank. Free booze was free booze, and he wasn’t gonna pass up on it just because Millie was the most annoying person he’s ever met.

The path to the barn was lit by large wooden braziers. A bit of a bold choice for a backyard barn party but whatever. And the sounds coming from inside the brand new barn make him shiver, hooting and hollering and all the other merriment country folk usually make. He sighs, preparing himself for the worst. Every adult in Stardew Valley is crammed inside, posted up against walls and sitting on barrels, drinking to their heart’s content. Sam and his band were in the stables up front on their own little impromptu stage. The townsfolk were already red-in-the-face drunk, and no one notices that he’d even arrived. Not that he expected them to. Well, everyone except…

“Shane! You made it!” Millie’s bubbly voice carries over the light rock music as she skips her way over. 

The sight of the welcome wagon almost makes him turn around and head back outside. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about fertilizer or horsehair or whatever it is that she can rope him in with this time.“Hey, Millie.” He grunted, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. But he pauses when he turned to face her. She’s got a cup in her hand, and Shane realizes this is the first time he’s seen her when she wasn’t covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime. Her eyes were bright and her curly hair was, she’s wearing a bright yellow sundress that’s hugging her at the waist and in, uh, other places. 

“I didn’t think you’d come!” She cheers through a smile. He frowns, well, more than he was already frowning. 

“You invited me didn’t you?” He grouses and he doesn’t expect it, but her perma-grin falters a little, but she still offers him the cup she was holding. Her expression is a little strained, but she doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to the rest of the conversation. He takes the cup without hesitation and takes an experimental whiff. Shane can tell she wants to talk about something, but he stays quiet, taking a sip from the drink. 

“Well, um, enjoy the drinks then!” She chirps insincerely and bounces away from him and he tries not to watch the hem of her dress swish as she walks away. Right, not what tonight is about. He downs what little was in the cup she gave him, and the sweetness punched him right in the mouth, followed by a well-timed uppercut from the alcohol. It was tangy and fresh, with a hint of that sour citrus quality. It was pretty damn good, maybe Pierre and Gus had been onto something. 

Done with the public niceties and craving more to drink, Shane makes his way past the groups of mingling people. Emily and Clint were chatting it up underneath the shade of the rafters. Linus and the Wizard were there as well, chatting it up with Demetrius about something or another. Alex and Haley were in front of the stage, behind the food table. Perfect. Shane makes a beeline to the back table filled to the edges with seasonal dishes that all had come from the farm. He had to admit, it was pretty impressive. Blueberry pies, cranberry candy, yam pudding, all marked with intricately placed and printed labels. And next to the table was a row of kegs against the wall, each with a paper label tacked on to the front. Bingo.

He slinks around the table and heads to the first keg, tagged:  _ Orange Pale Ale _ . He grabbed a cup from the top and filled it as much as the little solo cup would allow and, without a hint of regret, knocked the whole thing back in one swig.

Not the one he had earlier, and not nearly as good. It’s not bad, but compared to that drink Millie had given him, it was barely okay. The same hint of citrus, not as sweet, or as strong. He steps over and takes a hefty cup from the next keg, marked:  _ Berry Wine _ and chugs it, same result. Good, but just shy of perfect. He repeats the process through each of the kegs and on the last keg of  _ Pomegranate Brandy _ he can start to feel the effects of the alcohol clouding out the edges of his vision. But he was still frustrated, none of these drinks were nearly as good or as hard as the cup Millie had given him earlier.

He finally looked up, realizing that he had attracted the attention of some the other Valley-dwellers. Namely, Marnie and Lewis, who were regarding him with a residual disappointment as Shane realizes that was his sixth cup of strange alcohol that night. Right, he should probably take a break. He steps back from the row of kegs, empty cup in hand and slinks into a nearby corner, where he can watch the rest of the party in peace.

His eyes wander aimlessly for a few moments, absorbing everything going on around him through his drunken fisheye lens. Naturally, (though he wouldn’t admit it was) his eyes land on Millie, who was standing a head below Elliot and Leah, chatting excitedly about whatever it is that girl talks about. She gesticulated wildly and her perma-grin was back in full force, but he could see that the other two were trying to comprehend what she was talking about in the first place. It made him laugh a little. She waves a tiny goodbye and bounces away to the next conversation she could involve herself in. She makes her way around the room relatively quickly, never staying in anyone’s clique for more than a few minutes. The high energy she projected got her into most conversations with ease, but she could never stay long. He’s not sober enough to be disgusted by the way her smile was so bright (that’s not normal right?), or how her sundress was perfectly cinched at the waist, or how she probably smelled like all that fruit she puts in the drinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk that much. It’s cool, he thinks, once he’s sobered up a little this will all be forgotten and he won’t have to deal with whatever those thoughts mean.

She leaves Emily and Clint alone with another tiny wave and makes her way over to Linus and the Wizard, who were secluded in another corner, standing out against the country-style folk of the rest of the town. Her steps are a bit more reluctant when she approaches them, and she’s got something in her hand (She’s always pulling shit out of nowhere). Shane shakes his head, she really shouldn’t be associating with those weird types in town. It’s kind of an unspoken rule, but I guess he can’t say much about it. He doesn’t talk to anyone. Millie hands over whatever she’s holding to Linus. His face immediately changes from his neutral fearful scowl to utter rage. 

“What? You think that just because I’m homeless that I like garbage?!” He shouts and her face is filled with unbridled shock and all she can do is cower as he tosses a rather fresh-looking clutch of flowers onto the floor. “What is wrong with you!?” And that’s the moment her heart breaks. All of the eyes in the room are on them. The music has stopped as Sam and the others are gawking at the scene the old man was making. Millie just balls up her fists and sniffles, marching her way out the front doors of the barn.

The wizard, who looks just as shocked as everyone else, lands a swift, hard smack on the back of Linus’ head, causing him to yelp. “What in Yoba’s name was that?!” He spits. The barn goes completely silent as the magician continues to berate the old man. Panicked mumbling breaks out in some of the separate cliques and even Sam has to cover his hand over the mic to squabble with Abigail and Sebastian.

No one has followed her out though. Shane waited for someone else to take the plunge as they all shuffled around awkwardly and gossiped, too caught up in their own embarrassment to remember that she hadn’t returned yet. Yikes. What was that old saying about when the girl starts crying in the bathroom? This seemed like a good a time as any to leave. He stands up and stretches conspicuously, leaving his red solo cup on the corner of the table and trying not to visibly sway. Marnie shot him another look as she passed, but she wouldn’t split away from her conversation with Lewis just to scold him. He gives her a small wave as he backs through the door.

It’s cold when the front door shuts behind him, the early fall air settling on the dark farm. He didn’t notice her at first. She was sitting out front on top of the squat stone wall, overlooking a pond. A large bottle of wine was dangling between her fingers. Right, she was also out here. Why didn’t he remember that? He half expects her to collapse in strangled sobs when she notices him standing there, but when her eyes glance over, her expression is despairing and it drags away back to the pond just as quickly. 

She didn’t say a word, just tipped up the bottle and drained almost half in a single swig. Shane really shouldn’t be waiting here right now. The mixture of bad party and several different kinds of booze were swirling in his stomach, and thinking wasn’t his first priority. He didn’t want to say something to make the girl more upset than she already was.

But he doesn’t move, Shane just watches as she stares into the pond. Not able to bear the silence any longer, he speaks up. “You alright?”

She doesn’t answer for a few seconds, just takes another shorter swig from the bottle. “I fucking hate being like this.” Shane’s brain fries for a second. He doesn’t think he’s heard Millie say anything remotely mean in the entire time he’s known her, let alone swear. She doesn’t wait for him to respond. “I’ve spent four years of my life here, and it feels like I just got here yesterday sometimes.” she sniffles. “I can’t say anything right.”

“That’s pretty rough.” Shane deadpans, he flexes and unflexes his fingers inside the pockets of his jacket. Why was this so hard all of a sudden? “You, uh, want some company?” The silence that follows is just a second too long to be comfortable. Millie nods.

“A little.” Her sniffle is pitiful. 

“Buh. Alright.” Shane saddles up over the fence and plops down beside her. And the moment he settles in, he’s offered the bottle with whatever she had been drinking. He takes a look at her, her sad eyes not daring to look away from the moonlit pond, and takes it. “You know how people are,” He starts. “Not always forgiving, or something.” It’s horrible, he knows it’s horrible. But the small laugh that he gets from her is enough to make him think that maybe it was worth it.

He tips it back, taking one large gulp to finish it off. It explodes with the sour-like citrus bitterness and when it’s gone he misses the fruity tang on his tongue. The familiar burning of strong alcohol is there too, but it’s well masked by the other tropical flavors. “Hey…” he starts, trying with every muscle in his body not to slur, “That’s what you gave me earlier.” It wasn’t a great explanation for his thoughts, but she seemed to get the point.

“Oh!” the tiny giggle that follows is much too high pitched for her to be any soberer than he was, “I must have given you my drink by accident.” 

He hands her the empty bottle. “It was good. Sorry, we drank the last of it.” Their fingers brush when she takes it, and by Yoba, he is trying to push down the thought of how soft her skin was for a farmer. The momentary bliss is interrupted as he watches her while she reels back and tosses the glass bottle as hard as she can into the pond in front of them. A large splash and then clunk and the only noise that carries on past it is her giggling furiously at her own tiny display of chaos. He even manages to crack a half-smile at her. He’s staring now, and should probably stop that. But it’s weird. It’s like he’s never seen her before. Moonlight bounced around in her curls as her hair is tossed by both her drunken swaying and her laughter. He could even see the lines of her farmer’s tan in her sundress.

“You got a problem, Shane?” Her eyebrow is quirked up and she’s looking straight back at him. Shit, he was still staring. 

“No, but you’re looking at me pretty hard Mills, there somethin’ you wanna say?” He’s drunk enough to roll with this right? She’s not backing down, in fact, a mischievous glint is in her eyes now as he watches the gears turn.

“You thinkin’ about getting some more drinks?” She’s slurring just as much as he is now. But damn, that sounded like a good idea. Her small form scoots over so that they’re hip to hip on the wall and he catches a whiff of her flowery perfume, and he can’t help but lean in closer as she whispers, “I got a secret stash of that special booze in my basement.” her breath smells like lemons and wine.

He sneaks a glance back to the barn, where the music had struck back up and the steady thrum of the bass could be felt even where they were sitting. “What about the party?” He says, and to be honest he doesn’t really care. And his sentiments are mirrored as she just shrugs her shoulders and stands up. 

“They haven’t come out to check on us yet, have they?” She puts her hands on her hips as he stands with her and he’s painfully reminded of her small size compared to him. He was a pretty hefty guy and she’s dwarfed next to him. But the thought doesn’t stay long as she whips around and starts making her way towards the farmhouse. He follows a few paces behind. Not looking at her ass. That would be rude.

When they get inside, she kicks off her flimsy sandals into a corner somewhere and makes a beeline for another door opposite, where a hand-carved wooden sign that said ‘ _ Cellar _ ’ was hung. “Have a seat anywhere!” she chimes as she’s already descending the extremely dark stairwell.

Uh. Right. Now that her energy has left the room, reality seems to hit him a little more substantially. This was weird, he’s in a strange woman’s house, waiting for strange booze when they had  _ just  _ left the party arguably drunk. People weren’t gonna get the right idea out of this. Shane debates leaving, shuffling his feet on the floor. But he is also reminded of free, expensive booze and instead kicks off his musty tennis shoes into the same corner she did and headed for the living room. Free booze is free booze, and he might as well get the best while it’s being offered. A fireplace is roaring in front of the large couch, and the tv was mounted above the mantel. It’s pretty cozy, actually. He stretches his muscles a bit as he recovers from the cool air outside. Pretty cozy, indeed.

As he makes himself comfortable, Millie’s footsteps echo as they surge back up the stairs. She pops through the door with a bottle of wine in each hand. “Found em’!” She kicks the door shut behind her and saunters into the living room. She sits on the couch next to him, handing over a bottle just for him, she props her feet up on the coffee table and relaxes into the soft cushions. “I call it,  _ Starfruit Special. _ ” She waves her bottle in the air triumphantly before twisting off the cap and taking a long, hearty swig and burping when she finished.

Shane just shook his head before taking the other bottle. Totally not intentionally, his hand brushes along her thigh when he sits back. (A farmer’s skin had no reason to be that soft.) Trying to will himself to focus, he takes a whiff once he twists off the cap and his nose is flooded with the sharp, tropical smell of starfruit and the burn of alcohol. Shane  _ almost _ scrunches his face at the sheer potency of it. Fucking Yoba’s tits that was strong. “You  _ made _ this?” He half-whispers, half-laughs. 

The girl gleefully kicks her feet and giggles at the question. “Yep! Pretty good isn’t it?” She takes another swig to punctuate the sentence. The fact that she wasn’t falling over drunk right now amazed him, especially considering she barely looked heavy enough to handle a bottle of hard lemonade.

They drank with intermittent soft conversation, working through their respective bottles at their own pace. But this wasn’t his usual foggy, drunken stupor he couldn’t deny that her perky, boundless energy was effecting him. He managed to even laugh, once. She knew quite a bit about booze, and maybe a bit more about flowers, and he can’t deny that he wouldn’t mind listening to anything else she said for the rest of his life. He’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to her tangent on hydrangeas or tulips or spangles or something. It’s not exactly up his alley, but she’s so excited about it he’s absorbing some of her energy and trying to get it as best he can. All the while, he’s trying to force the ceiling to stop spinning but it’s not really working. 

“...And when the soil is too acidic, instead of dying, they sometimes change colors, I’ve been able to breed a strain that almost always comes out green…” She continues rambling, but as she did so she sunk further into the cushions, eventually falling just so so that she landed on his shoulder. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she continued on her little rant about the pH balance of the soil on the farm. But he noticed, as soon as he felt the warmth it sent a visceral shock through his whole body and he goes static. She’s doing something with counting her fingers when he looks down. But she freezes and he gets pre-embarrassed and readies his apology for invading her space when she looks up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m cold, are you?”

“What?” Shane says, a little tingly from the weird level of intimacy they had been on. “Uh, no?”

“I am.” She says flatly, but no sooner do the words leave her mouth does she sit up, take hold of Shane’s arm and wraps it around her waist before immediately laying back down against his side in the pre-fab embrace. The whole interaction has him in shock and it might be the alcohol that doesn’t have him respond as she goes back to her rant, comfortable under his arm. The heat is getting to his cheeks, whether it be blush or booze, but he’s sure he hasn’t felt this good in a long while. He’s relaxed, like  _ really  _ relaxed and he was fairly sure he couldn’t do that kind of thing anymore.

He looks back to the bottles on the table, hers was far emptier than his. So why did he feel like he was freaking out  _ way _ more than she was about this? “Hey, uh, Mills?” Shane interrupted halfway through her lecture on water-retaining soil. 

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing?”

“...talking?”

“Uh...right, besides that?”

She raises her eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. There wasn’t a single indication that she had any idea what he was trying to talk about. So he just decides to drop it. “Nothing. Nevermind.” 

“Oh, okay.” She shimmies to get her body more comfortable against his side, before falling back into her lecture seamlessly. He did his job and held her at her waist, keeping her second-hand warm with his old ratty jacket. But the feeling of her so casually against him sent sparks through his body every time she shifted her position. His hand was rested on her hip, and he couldn’t help but smooth over the ripples in the soft sundress, soothing himself as much as her.

Instead of watching the spinning ceiling, he decided instead to watch her. Her curls bounced with every word, mostly because her gesticulations were pretty wild for a tirade about the best fertilizer to use for tulips. Her lips would occasionally pucker when she had to think particularly hard and he wonders what it would feel like to have them against his. And Yoba, if he could stretch his fingers just a little more he could feel the soft skin of her thighs. This was weird right? He should stop being weird and as all these thoughts paint themselves across his face he doesn’t notice she stopped talking and was staring back at him.

“Something wrong?” She shrinks a little under his arm, avoiding his gaze. “Oh, was I talking too much?” She awkwardly laughs and tries to sit up, but is stopped by Shane wrapping his arm around her a little tighter. It catches her off-guard, but as soon as she feels the weight, she freezes.

“No.” He flushes, trying to avoid the large brown eyes boring up at him. “You’re just uh...really pretty I guess.”

In an instant, her whole face goes bright red, flustered and panicked ‘thank you’s’ flew from her mouth but were muffled as she buried her face in her hands. It boosts what little ego he has and usually, when he flirts with women, this is not the reaction. (The occasional drunken flirts with Penny end up with a kick to the shin.) And he just revels in it while a wicked grin crosses his face. “What? I can drink your booze but I can’t call you pretty?” He laughs.

She peeks a single eye out from beneath her hands and speaks in a muffled tone. “Well...uh…” 

“And in case you didn’t notice, you’ve been cradled in my arms for the last hour.” 

She floundered for an answer as he adjusted so that they were facing each other properly. “I-it’s just--”

“ _ And _ even before that, you invited me to your party, when we’ve spoken barely thirty words to each other in  _ four years _ .” He chuckles as he watches her flounder helplessly against the questioning, but through his haze, he puts two and two together before she can get out a full sentence. Oh.  _ Oh. _

As she fumbled through her words, Shane leaned down so that when she finally could meet his eyes, they were almost nose to nose. “So, Millie.” He starts slow and deliberate. She goes silent, watching his mouth with glassy eyes. “Why did you  _ really _ invite me here.” The words dripped from his lips like he’d cracked the code of the century, drunken grin threatening to split his face. She doesn’t answer him. At least not in the way he expected. With barely a twitch of her head upward, their lips finally meet, and she tastes like starfruit and sugar.

It’s soft and chaste and much too short for his liking, because just as soon as it starts, she pulls back, impossibly redder than before. “W-was that alright?” She asks tentatively, with her voice high-pitched and shaking.

He takes a page from her book and doesn’t answer, taking her by the shoulders and smashing their lips together again. She melts in his arms and allows him to lead the kiss, resting her hands against the broad planes of his chest. Every swallowed noise she made reminded him of how touch-starved he really was because it sent white-hot sparks straight to his groin. And she was just, if not more, eager. Her hands were fisted in the old jersey, and he could feel the gentle sting of her nails through the fabric.

They part only once they’re breathless. With their noses pressed together, they just soaked in the feeling of being touched. “I-is this alright?” Millie whispers. And Shane just has to laugh, she’s pretty adorable, he’ll concede to that at least.

“Yeah,” he pecks her on the tip of her nose. “This is alright.” She bites her lip as her confidence is renewed, cathing his lips again and pulling them both up so that they were standing in the middle of the living room. Eager hands are still fisted in his jersey, he takes the hint and lets her drag him back towards the bedroom.

How they made work of the door without stopping to breathe, Shane wasn’t sure. They only get their hands off each other for longer than an instant when the bed bumps into the back of Millie’s knees and Shane takes the initiative to hook his arm around her waist and lift her up unceremoniously to plop her down into the soft mattress. She lands with a raucous giggle and scrambles so that she was sat up on her elbows, watching Shane’s every move. 

Her eyes are wide and glassy with drunken lust and her lips were still puffy and red. She doesn’t say a word, just eyes him with a wanton adoration as he just basks in the glow of the moment. Well, maybe basking wouldn’t be the word. The reality of this situation just sort of set in. Was he really at the point of alcoholism now where he has no objection to bumping uglies with an almost stranger? He hesitates and tries to worm his way out of her alluring gaze as he slipped his tawdry jacket from his shoulders. She doesn’t notice his hesitation and eagerly tries to follow his lead, pulling up the hem of her sundress and when she does what little reserve he had left in him goes out the window as it drops to the floor. She’s now sitting in front of him, spread out like a five-course meal, left only in a bright pink pair of panties. Painfully reminded of the layers he was still covered in, his hard-on is already straining against his pants. “Wow…” He whispers under his breath, just loud enough for her to catch it.

She giggled as he rushed, shoving off articles of clothing and tossing them in every corner of the room. Shane was getting a bit heavy, but he was glad for what little muscle that he still had. Because the way her eyes dragged up his form keep any embarrassment he would have felt at bay.

He tentatively climbs onto the bed, but he doesn’t have to make the next move because as soon he makes contact with the comforter she sits up and her hands are on him. They crash their lips together again in a flurry of teeth and tongue and he gets pulled down so that his torso is slotted perfectly between her legs. He grabs hold of whatever he can, her breasts, her thighs, her hair. She’s returning every gesture with a strangled moan, leaning into the contact with every bit of energy she had. He wouldn’t be satisfied until every centimeter was covered in goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Millie’s hands were fisted in his hair, pulling at the dark curls as they moved against each other. He can feel the heat emanate from her center and it spurs him on, forgetting any anxiety he had and replacing them with the feeling of her. Nothing but breathy moans and gasps filled the room, her needy thrusts against his pelvis was testing his patience and he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. His own desperation and hers combine as he let a hand hook under the elastic and pulled them down, tossing them to the side with the rest of the discarded clothes.

With a bit of a struggle, (as Shane _ refused _ to have his hands off her for more than a few moments) Shane pulls off own boxers next and his cock hung hot and heavy between his legs. But he freezes, their lips part and he huffs. “Are we still alright?”

She nods furiously. The gesture makes him chuckle and he manages to crack a wry smile as he hooks both his hands underneath her thighs. He positions her underneath him, taking the smaller woman by the hips and placed the head of his cock at her entrance, sliding easily into the wetness that had pooled there. When they finally get that contact they had been craving, it’s euphoria. She’s hotter than he anticipated, and her skin blooms like fire, flushing down to her shoulders as he pushes. Her high-pitched groan is dizzying and she stretches so easily while her walls are still hugging every inch that dipped in. 

Shane sets a steady pace, careful not to burst too quickly. Her fingers curl around his back and claw into the skin when he’s fully seated, and she’s squirming and mewling at the sensation of intrusion. But their kisses are still sloppy and wet as he pounds into her. They never part long enough for her to get a chance to breathe as her moans fall in rhythm with him. 

“Shane…” she starts to whisper, breathless. “S-shane I-i’m gonna…” and he finishes her sentence with a slam of his hips and just like that she’s coming, spilling out onto the sheets and him, pulsating around his hard cock. And that feeling alone is enough for him, and before he can come into the tight heat, he pulls out and spills his load onto the sheets with a grunt.

They’re both panting and breathless, the ecstasy fading out and reality sets in. Shane plopped down to rest against her side, still craving her touch. The ceiling has stopped spinning, and he listens attentively to the sound of her breath.

“You, uh, can stay here tonight if you want,” Millie whispers. “I have some extra blankets around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, alright.” Shane huffs, and to her surprise, rolls over so that he’s flush against her side letting a hand drift up to play with one her breasts. She turns so that they face each other, and buries her face into the mounds of his chest, sighing.

“That was nice.” She says softly before yawning.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her even more into him. “Yeah, that was nice.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Day one of my Valentine's special is complete! This was a pretty long one, been working on it for more than a week. I wanted my first fic for this to be a real heavy hitter. Leave a comment if you like, if you don't, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


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